


The Comforts of Silk

by grimmlin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Boys in Skirts, Domestic Fluff, First Kiss, Fluff, Gender Dysphoria, Human Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Nonbinary Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 00:47:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19414981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimmlin/pseuds/grimmlin
Summary: Sometimes, Cas just really hates wearing pants. He's already struggling enough learning to be human, but having to wear jeans all the time doesn't feel right and there are days where he simply cannot tolerate the fabric wrapped around his legs. His search for a solution leads him to something he never thought of trying. He discovers the joy of silk, until Dean walks in on him.





	The Comforts of Silk

**Author's Note:**

> I...I have no idea where this came from but here it is. I hope you enjoy.

Sometimes, Castiel really hates wearing pants. Period, end of sentence. These things never bothered him before he lost his grace, but now, as if being human weren’t arduous enough, being confined to _pants_ in addition to his vessel turned permanent home is downright unbearable.

Those are the days when Castiel hides behind a locked door in the room that Dean and Sam gave him when he finally made it back to the bunker.

In the beginning, Castiel would simply strip off whatever pants he was wearing and sit in the loose boxers that Dean has shoved in his arms and exclaimed “These are the most comfortable things _ever_ , Cas. You’re gonna love’em.”

Cas didn’t mind the light and loose fabric at first, but the elastic waistband began to irritate him after a time so he stripped out of those too.

The results of that experiment were unsettling. Sitting on his bed, with a shirt and nothing else, with his vessel’s…no, _his_ …limp penis just…there. Exposed. Made him supremely uncomfortable.

For the first time since humans were created, he understands their aversion to nudity.

And thinking of Dean only makes the situation worse. Those sharp green eyes and confident demeanor when Cas _knows_ how afraid Dean is of losing what little he has, of failing those he loves, caused Castiel’s penis to do something utterly _horrifying._

It moves on its own. Growing. _Hardening._

Cas couldn’t shove a pillow over his traitorous appendage quick enough.

He tried wearing the boxers again, but he swore he could feel his brand new soul utterly dying of despair at the feeling of the loose cotton brushing against his thighs and the elastic around his waist.

He _hates_ them.

Now, most days he can face the reality of wearing pants bravely. Sometimes, he isn’t bothered by them at all. He trains with the brothers and learns how to be human and faces Dean’s mock scorn with grace and dignity. At least, he tries.

He only wants to make the Winchester’s proud, make Dean proud, but he seems to fail at every turn.

Sam is patient, blessedly patient, with his mishaps but Dean is another story.

The look Dean gives him every time Cas accidentally get grounds in the coffee pot because he didn’t load the filter just right, or every time he tries to exorcise the washing mashing because no matter what buttons he pushes, the infernal thing WILL. NOT. WORK…well, the look Dean gives him makes Cas want to crawl under the covers of his bed and never come out.

If he dies now, will his human soul go to heaven? Is that his only way home now? If he hides long enough, perhaps he’ll find out.

Human bodies take over a month to die of starvation, he doesn’t think his willpower would hold out that long. But, it only takes about a week to die of dehydration. But would that count as suicide? Cas thinks it probably does.

Either way, he could never do that to Dean.

Somehow, the hunter would turn it around and find a way to blame himself. Cas could never hurt Dean like that.

But these thoughts inevitably pale in comparison for the sheer evil that are pants.

But, his boxers aren’t any better and being naked is so much worse. Which leads him here, clicking through a website Sam swears has everything.

Amazon.com

Cas clicks and clicks, searching for different types of underwear and different types of pants.

He wrinkles his nose and squeaks in horror when he sees pale, flesh-colored things called “manties” and he nearly slams his borrowed laptop closed when he finds completely mesh and see through boxers. They look comfortable, but that does not solve the problem of his penis being visible.

He backs out of those with a shudder.

“Cas?” Dean says through the door and Cas does slam the laptop shut then.

“Yes?” Cas calls back, certain his voice is an octave higher than it ought to be, but continually pitching his voice low like he had when he was an Angel hurts after a while.

So, he’s been talking differently.

More like Jimmy had.

“Me and Sam are running into town, wanna come?” Dean says and Cas lets out a heavy sigh.

“No, I will stay here,” Cas says back, looking down at the white boxers covering him. He can’t put on pants. Not right now. He might actually cry at the feeling of denim trapping his legs.

“Alright, call us if you need anything,” Dean says, and Cas can hear the man’s footsteps trailing away.

Cas huffs and shakes his head, returning to his search.

He nearly gives up, then gets the idea to search for clothes from a different time. Maybe the loose linen of medieval times will suit him.

This search leads him on a path he had not thought to imagine.

His screen is full of women’s clothes. Skirts to be precise, but not something he’s ever seen someone wear.

The item is called “Woman’s Tribal Leaves Style Skirt” and they come in a three pack. The silk material looks loose and flowing, hanging in wide strips for a tattered look and the elastic waist is wide and soft according to the reviews. His heart patters faster, seeing something he wants and yet knows would be forbidden for a man to wear.

But who would know?

He decides to call Sam. He doesn’t have a credit card to place an order, but he’s sure Sam wouldn’t begrudge him thirty dollars.

“Sam?” Cas says when Sam answers. “I found something on the Amazon I would like to order. It’s thirty dollars, can I use one of your credit cards?” His mouth is dry as he asks, and his heart begins to hammer when Sam doesn’t answer right away.

“That Cas?” Dean says and Cas clenches his eyes closed. “Lemme talk to him.”

Sam must pass the phone because Dean’s voice fills Cas’ ear next. “So, what’s up Cas? Need anything?”

Cas takes another deep breath. “I. I found something on the Amazon that I would like to order, but I don’t have a credit card.” He can’t tell Dean what he wants to buy and he’s nearly ready to beg to his father that Dean doesn’t ask.

“Alright, I’ll give you one of my cards when we get back. I’ll show you how to use it,” Dean says easily, and Cas lets out the breath he had been holding.

“Yes, that sounds good. Thank you, Dean,” Cas says before he quickly hangs up. He doesn’t want Dean asking any more questions.

He stares a while longer at the skirts and runs his fingers over the screen reverently.

Eventually, Dean comes home and gives Cas the credit card as promised. He assures Cas that thirty dollars is nothing to worry about, it’s fine. Cas is allowed to want things for himself and Dean doesn’t even ask what he’s ordering.

Cas loves Dean just a little bit more for that.

Three days later, the package arrives at the mailbox the brothers keep in town and Sam picks it up with the mail. Cas eyes the thick yellow envelope with excitement and trepidation. His pants are slowly driving him insane today. He can’t sit still. His skin itches and his soul aches with his burning hatred of wearing pants every day.

These skirts could solve all his problems.

He takes the envelope from Sam with a soft smile and hurries to his room without another word.

His hands tremble as he opens the package and pulls the skirts out. The website said they came in an assortment of random colors, so he wasn’t sure what to expect.

One is red with green highlights that reminds him of Dean’s eyes. He sets that one aside.

The next one is brown with bits of gold trim and red embroidery. He sets that one aside too when he catches sight of the final skirt.

It’s a mixture of colors. Blue, purple, green, and even two leaves of the deepest black. Cas loves it.

He quickly strips out of the secondhand jeans that Dean had helped him pick out, and after a moment of deliberation, shucks his boxers too.

The silk feels perfect against his skin and he sighs as his eyes slide closed at the delightful sensation. The skirt is full but weightless. Loose and soft like nothing he’s ever worn before. Some of the leaves extend to the middle of his calves, but most end around his knees and he discovers the most wonderful feeling when he twists his hips to try and see behind him.

The gentle brush of silk on his legs sends shivers up his spine and he grins.

These are perfect.

He grins wider.

Finally, the freedom he craves.

He looks in the mirror and frowns though. The skirt is lovely, but his flannel shirt? Not so much. He slips the long-sleeved shirt from his shoulders and glares at the tee shirt underneath.

That too must go.

Finally, he stands before his mirror nude other than the silk skirt. His broad and muscled chest is starkly masculine in contrast to gentle femininity of the skirt, but he likes the look.

He spent most of his existence without a gender. This body is male, but Cas still does not always feel like a man. Never before has the gender of a vessel been his own, never been permanent. Now, he is defined as a man by pure chance but sometimes he doesn't' feel like a man. Deep down, he isn't. Not really.

Now, his loose skirt and bare chest make him feel like nothing at all once again and he loves that freedom.

“Hey, Cas?” Dean says as he knocks and Castiel suddenly remembers his mistake.

His heart skids to a stop as he hears the door handle start to turn. “No! Dean don’t…”

Too late.

Dean stands in the open doorway and _stares._

Cas feels his cheeks heat with shame, and he looks down, waiting for Dean’s look to turn to disgust.

“Cas?” Dean says, his voice barely a croak. “That, uh, s’that what you ordered?”

Cas looks up. Dean doesn’t sound angry. In fact, he’s closing the door behind him as Cas watches warily.

Dean leans against the closed door, with his hands tucked behind his back as he chews his lip, waiting for Cas to answer.

Cas nods and Dean’s gaze sharpens. “I, uh, I can explain,” Cas says before Dean holds up a hand for silence.

“Don’t,” Dean says and Cas’ stomach drops. The hunter shakes his head. “Don’t apologize.”

Cas’ eyes widen as he stares, waiting for the anger to come. Dean is man’s man and holds a clear view of what men should be. What men should do. Wearing a silk skirt is something men do not do in Dean’s world.

Dean pushes off the door and steps closer, watching Cas with a firm set to his jaw.

Cas feels worse than naked.

He flinches when Dean comes to a stop in front of him, flinches again when Dean reaches out a tentative hand and touches his fingertips to Castiel’s bare chest.

“Cas,” Dean says right before he licks his lips. “You…” Dean shakes his head as if dispelling a foolish thought.

“Dean?” Cas asks, feeling a shift in the air. He doesn’t step back. Whatever Dean is thinking, he needs time for the thoughts to develop into words that Dean is capable of saying.

“You’re fuckin gorgeous, Cas,” Dean says and then immediately draws his hand back as if Cas’ bare skin is flaming hot. Cas snatches his hand and holds on tight before Dean can retreat. “You prolly hate me for saying that, but I can’t….fuck, Cas I just can’t not say anything.”

“Dean,” Cas says but Dean steamrolls right over him.

“I understand if you want to leave, never see me again.” Dean looks terrified and Cas thinks he finally understands.

“Dean,” Cas says again but he isn’t getting through. Dean’s breaths are coming quicker, and he’s gone completely still in Cas’ grasp.

“I’ve been trying not to be a perv, you’re so new to being human I didn’t want to…and now I’ve ruined things. Fuck Cas, I’m so…”

Cas takes a risk.

He shuts Dean up with his mouth.

Dean startles and squeaks when Cas first presses their lips together, but he soon slides his eyes closed with a punched-out moan. Dean’s hands quickly find Castiel’s bare skin once again, roaming and pulling Cas closer, refusing to let go.

Dean takes over the kiss and their lips move roughly against one another, their stubble scraping as he walks Cas backward until the backs of his knees bump the mattress. The halt in progress jolts Dean from his mission and he pulls back, staring with wide eyes. “Cas.”

Cas swallows hard. “I, uh, I hate pants. Sometimes.”

Dean laughs and shakes his head, picking at one of the strips of silk brushing against Cas’ legs. “Don’t ever change, Cas.”

Dean stays in Cas’ room that night, and Cas stays in his skirt as they slowly explore each other’s bodies. Cas isn’t interested in going any further than those light and gentle touches. He wants to savor this, all his pieces finally clicking into place.

Dean wants him. Despite his hatred of pants and his newfound love of silk, Dean wants him.

Later, Dean even shows him the bits of silk that he hides in the back of his own sock drawer and flushes an intense shade of crimson Cas had never seen before as Dean models the panties for him.

Afterward, Cas finally learns just how wonderful being naked with someone else can be.


End file.
